


Somniphobia

by kiite



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Study, Gen, oh also cavendish bi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiite/pseuds/kiite
Summary: Cavendish doesn’t sleep enough.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	Somniphobia

Cavendish is afraid of falling asleep.

He doesn’t remember when it started. It must have been some time after he left Bourgeois, his home, and began his journey on the high seas. It must have been after Rommel. He always slept fine before Rommel.

Now, he wakes up with blood on his hands and the urge to vomit.

* * *

It doesn’t happen every night. If it happened every night, Cavendish doubts he’d still have a crew. But it happens often enough for him to be constantly on edge, often enough for him to dread giving in to his inevitable need for sleep. Often enough for him to not allow himself any close relationships.

He remembers the port town— not its name, or the island, but he remembers the man at the port town. It had been long after Rommel, and he should have known better than to let himself be drawn in the way he was. But he had been tired, so tired, of pretending like he was the only person that matters to quell his self-imposed loneliness. He allowed himself to be drawn in, to have one lovely night.

He woke up later in the stranger’s bed where he’d fallen asleep, Durandal shoved through the eviscerated man’s chest cavity. The sheets were red, and so were Cavendish’s hands. 

He wasn’t sure what number this was. He had lost count.

* * *

The papers call it Hakuba. Its name isn’t Hakuba.

Cavendish isn’t sure how he knows this, and with such certainty, but he does. If it has a name that it would rather be called, it hasn’t communicated that to him yet. He just knows it isn’t Hakuba. 

He doesn’t wake up the next day covered in blood, so he supposes it must not mind the name Hakuba all that much. Hakuba it is.

* * *

_ The sunflowers are beautiful _ , Cavendish thinks as he sits in the field beside Law. He tries not to look at the sizable splash of blood from an earlier fight that must have taken place. It paints some of the sunflowers red, and he doesn’t much like it— something of such pristine beauty stained with the blood of someone else’s violence. It’s not fair. 

“Is it true,” Cavendish says out of the blue, shifting his eyes over to where he had planted Durandal in the ground, “that you can tamper with a person’s personality using your powers?”

Law looks at him and frowns. “So what if I can?”

“There's something within my heart, and I want it gone. I fear this may be the only chance I have.” Cavendish feels slightly guilty for making such a request when Law is so clearly exhausted, but he has to try.

“Whatever you're asking, I’m probably not capable of it,” Law warns, leaning forward to rest his arm on his knee. 

“I understand,” Cavendish replies, not setting his expectations too high. “I’d still like it if you’d try.”

There’s no reply from Law, but by the way he grabs his sword and extends a flattened hand, Cavendish assumes that he has agreed. The surgeon creates a small Room, just large enough to cover both of them, in order to conserve as much energy as possible. He aligns his unsheathed sword and jabs it forward slightly. 

“Shambles.”

Something is pushed from Cavendish’s chest, and Law nods.

Something  _ else _ follows, and Law nearly drops his sword.

The waves of malice that Cavendish has become accustomed flow out into the open, dangerous and palpable. Law’s hand shakes and the Room disperses, the protrusions sinking back into Cavendish’s chest. 

It was nothing Cavendish hadn’t expected. 

“Whatever  _ that  _ is,” Law says, sounding shaken, “I can’t do anything about it. Find an exorcist, or something.”

Cavendish just nods and stares back out at the seemingly endless stretch of sunflowers. He wonders if Hakuba likes sunflowers, too— if it likes  _ anything _ other than bloodshed. If only it would talk to him.

* * *

“Why did you join my crew?”

Suleiman spares his captain a glance from his position at the helm. “I admire your strength. I would have no reason to work under someone otherwise.”

Cavendish rests his chin in his hands, crossing one leg over the other. “Did you really admire my strength? Or was it Hakuba’s?”

“Both.” Suleiman answers frankly, and does not elaborate. He doesn’t need to.

* * *

Cavendish is important. Cavendish is the most important thing in the room, in any room, and he’s fully convinced himself of this. He’s elegant, skillful, charming; everything any other pirates want to be, he is. He has to be. He is.

If Cavendish isn’t important, then who's to say that Hakuba shouldn’t be the one in charge?

* * *

He wakes up alone in his cabin, chained down for his crew’s safety.

He wakes up with blood on his hands anyway, on occasion.

Cavendish is afraid of falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> small authors note: I kno oda seems to imply that Cavendish’s thing with hakuba is DID but I don’t find it to be a v good portrayal of that (for various reasons) so I choose to interpret Hakuba as an entirely separate entity. that’s all ty for reading!!


End file.
